I Can Drive
by Shuvcat
Summary: Faith takes the Mayor out on the town.


## I Can Drive

###  by Shuvcat (c) 2000

The title is a Shakespears Sister song.   
For the Faithful who inspired it, and again for DreamSmith, whose Faith is stronger than mine...whose Faith could likely kick my Faith's ass.... thanks for the assist, guy. :) Timeframe: season 3, right after Dopplegangland.   
As always, Joss and WB own, I just sublet. 

* * *

#### **"No way." Faith stood in the dimming parking lot, staring at the shiny new black Jaguar convertible, unconvinced that she was hearing this right. Mayor Richard Wilkins III stood nearby, hands stuffed in pockets, grinning hugely at the Slayer's awe. "And I repeat: Yes way!" he insisted. Faith looked from the car, to him, to the car again. "Who do I have to kill?" she asked, not caring at all as long as she could keep the thing. It was liquid and beautiful, sleek like a weapon. It stared back at her with headlights that under the buzzing lot lights seemed to have a green tint to them, like cat's eyes. Like a real jaguar. The Mayor shrugged. "Nobody. No, this is a sweet sixteen present!" Faith walked around from the front to the rear, trying to get a look at the beautiful machine from all angles. "I'm not sixteen." She declined to comment on the sweet part. "Also it's not my birthday." He shrugged again. "Consider it late. Or early. Besides, after this spring the roads aren't gonna be much for driving anymore." He uttered a sardonic laugh. "What's the matter? Not your color? Would you rather have red? I'll exchange it if you want." Faith couldn't believe it. He was actually offering to change the color like he was talking about a sweater. "No way. I love black." In truth, she would have preferred a motorcycle -- but the convertible was so gorgeous sitting there under the streetlamp, the sunset glowing off its wax. A brand new car, she couldn't get over it. Faith wasn't sure she'd ever been in a new car before. Her mother had never been wealthy or sober enough to even own a rusty rattletrap of a car. The Mayor was enjoying the awed expression on the Slayer's face. "Well? What are you waiting for? Wanna take it out for a spin?" Well, yeah. Except Faith had never really driven much. Walking always got her where she needed to go, and it was incognito. Plus if she had to, she knew she could run faster than most cars. Some guy had tried to teach her to drive once, back in Boston, but he'd bailed before the lessons went too far. The Mayor seemed to know what she was thinking. "You do drive, don't you?" he asked. Faith gave him a look. "How hard can it be? Turn the key and stay between the yellow lines. Ain't rocket science." The Mayor beamed. "Swell! Heads up." He pulled the keys out of his pocket and tossed them over the hood at her. She caught them swiftly in one hand, barely even looking. "You have a ball out there. And remember, young lady... safety first. You buckle up." Faith rolled her eyes. "Aw, come on! That's no fun." "Faith..." "Okay....geez." She gazed at the shiny keys in her palm, like grinning dinosaur teeth. The keychain even had one of those remote doodads you could lock your car with. Faith felt weirdly humbled. The apartment he'd presented her with last week was one thing. Cool as her new pad was, it had still felt like an offering, a bribe, something she wouldn't normally have and therefore didn't deserve. Which was why she had offered to sleep with him. She'd been around enough to know how the barter system worked. Except he'd turned her down, which, while not exactly a disappointment, completely threw Faith's balance off. And now he turned around and did something like this. She wasn't used to getting so much for nothing. The no- strings- attached apartment, and now this car, were above and beyond the barter. Nobody had ever done something like this for her before. She raised her eyes, looking at him. "You wanna come?" she couldn't help offering. The Mayor looked up, surprised. "Faith, you don't have to," he insisted. "Besides, I really can't. I've got a meeting in a while on the other side of town and....anyway, you don't really want an old hat like me on board, do you? Wouldn't you rather go joyriding with the gals?" Faith blinked. Was he kidding? Yeah, rolling with friends would be great -- if she had someone to roll with. The thought of Buffy seated in the passenger seat flashed across her mind -- and she shoved it away. Buffy had made painfully clear whose side she was on. The nice, clean, we're-always-right-and- you're-always-wrong-and-you're-goin'-down-girl side. Faith had thought for a while there she had somebody on her side, someone as strange, as freakish, as unique as she herself was. Sister Slayers, them against the world. Bulletproof, death-proof, the Indestructible Two. Someone to party with and screw the establishment and conquer the world with. But Buffy, apparently, didn't want to be that kind of girl with Faith. A fairweather, gung ho Slaying pal, sure. But nothing deeper. Nothing else. An unhappy frown had clouded Faith's face. "In case you haven't noticed, I don't exactly have a swingin' entourage here," she grumbled, pulling the door open. She gave the Mayor a look. "Come on. You gotta get there, right? I can drive you. Or look, just blow 'em off, I mean, the slaughter of innocents can wait one night, can't it? When's the last time you got out of the office anyway? It'll be fun." The Mayor looked almost bewildered at this flood of invitation. "You're sure?" "Yeah." The brief darkness in her brown eyes passed. "Yeah, I'm sure. Driving solo bites." The Mayor uttered another laugh, scratching the back of his well-clipped red head. "Well, okay...if you really don't mind." He opened the passenger door and got in. Faith smiled. An evil demon lord wannabe was still better company than her own dark self. Letting her black mood melt in the warm glow of automotive excess, she slid into the leather driver's seat, running her polished fingers possessively over the wheel. She didn't know what to try first. She fiddled with the remote on the keychain for a second, like sampling a candy off a cake. She hit the door locks half a dozen times. She flicked the lights on and off. She zoom-moved the mirrors, checking herself out in the rearview, her chocolate eyes were sparkling. She looked hot in this car. She was also grinning like a dork, but she couldn't help it. The Mayor watched all this with an amused, indulgent grin. "Pretty neat, huh?" "Wicked neat." Finally she stuck the key in the ignition and turned it. The Jaguar started up smooth, and she couldn't help hitting the gas a few times, revving the engine. Damn, it sounded beautiful. Like a jet plane. She pulled on the lights and the dash lit up like the Strip on Christmas. "Awesome," she breathed, reaching for the stereo. _"Wanna go for a ride?!"_ The extremely loud bassey crunch of the Pumpkins blasted over the speakers. "Holy--" the Mayor yelped, jumping. "You wanna--" The tires squealed and the Jag took off with a jolt down the darkening street before he could finish his plea to turn down the stereo. No great trouble. Next to the revving of the engine, the music was barely even noticeable. "Okay!" the Mayor called, reaching for his seat belt out of habit. "Now, you might want to stay in your lane-- Faith-- this lane, my side--" He burst out in a nervous fit of laughter as the car bucked suddenly. "Faith, I can talk you out of a speeding ticket, but I don't know about driving on the curbs." Faith didn't bother. She loved this. Nobody had ever really let her get behind the wheel of a car and turn the mother out before. Plus she was having unholy fun watching the Mayor get all freaked over her driving. She gunned the motor a little and watched him sink back in the seat. Faith's red lips grinned. "Just lean back, boss," she shouted over Billy Corgan's peeling whine. "This car is the BOMB!" She couldn't help whooping for joy, and he laughed too. Sunnydale was getting gone real fast as the night came on. The unspoken curfew that every citizen followed if they knew what was good for them meant the streets were bare, more or less, by the time the sun set. Anyone out walking now was either a terminal carnivore or terminally stupid. Either way, Faith didn't care. The thinning herd wasn't her problem anymore. It was liberating -- Buffy would never understand the pure joy of blowing off people who were depending on you. _Especially_ if they were depending on you. It was a total high. "Man, where's the hood latch?" she asked, veering into the opposite lane as her eyes left the road momentarily. Next to her, the Mayor looked satisfyingly startled. Grinning, she yanked the correct knob and the roof came away from the top, peeling back over their heads, the dark blue sky becoming visible, the stars coming out one by one. The horizon was still pale red, and this was what Faith sped toward. This town was dead at night. All the action was over the hill. "So where's this meeting you have to be at, anyway?" she shouted over the rushing wind. The Mayor checked his watch. "Well, no big rush," he said. "I've got a half hour yet. We can go get ice cream if you want." He chuckled. The young Slayer's brown locks were whipping around her head, she looked happier than he'd ever seen her. So they turned in (rather, screeched in, Faith didn't quite make the turn) to the Mr. Freezee's Ice Emporium and naturally took the drive thru. Mr. Freezee's seventy-one flavors were lit in faded color on the menu. Faith picked Tangy Raspberry Rage; the Mayor opted for E-Lemonator. "Did you hear me?" Faith shouted into the buzzing intercom. "I said--" Smash. That had come from the side of the building. Faith looked around -- deserted parking lot, lights all on... okay. She sat back in the seat, deliberating. "What is it?" asked the Mayor. Faith's eyes were trained on the brush surrounding the drive in restaurant. "Just how far you trust your voters, boss?" she asked, her voice low and even. "Let me put it this way... there anybody you can think of that wouldn't take a good clear shot at you?" The Mayor considered that. "Well, now that you mention it--" "Thought so." Faith looked around. If he stayed in the car, he had a chance. He probably knew some kind of ward-off charm to keep his butt safe -- but protecting the Mayor was one of the things she'd been hired for, and it was one thing she wanted to make good on. "Things are gonna heat up in a minute. Keep the doors locked." Faith got out of the car, slamming the door. She hiked around the side of the building, eyes moving over the bushes, the shadows. Her senses sharpened up, she cloaked herself in her mental armor as she shoved through the door of the restaurant. No less than ten members of a gang were in there, busting up the place. One was eating the ice cream straight out of the vats, one was spray- painting his name onto the menu, and one was smashing the jukebox. None of them were human, though Faith wasn't sure what they were. She knew what the owner, laying on the floor with his throat cut was...dead. "Hey!" she shouted. They all turned around. The presumable leader, a damn-fine looking guy stripped in leather up and down, broke a wicked grin at her. "Hey yourself, chiquita," he called. "You be the Slayer, right?" Faith shrugged, stepping to him. "Depends on what's asking," she answered with her own grin. It was so easy -- just grind her hips, pout a little, and they were jelly. It occured to her whoever had decided Slayership was a chick-only deal had had a pretty sick sense of humor. She stepped up to the punk, sliding her hands over his jacket, a move that left him open to getting tossed through a wall and which he naturally didn't think to block. "So tell me, stud, what kind of man are you, anyway?" He was checking her out, like they all did -- eyes roaming up and down her shapely curves without even worrying about her noticing. Whatever he was, he was fine. She could dance with this one if she had a mind to. "Kind of man that eats pop tarts like you for breakfast, Lola," he sneered. "Really." Faith smiled as he walked around her, getting a good view. She shifted her weight from one side to the other, posing. "Wow, guess this is the part where I get all scared and please-don't-eat-me-Mr.-Wolf, huh?" "I think you're the kind of girl that likes biting," sneered the punk. Faith's smile cut one side of her face. "I think you might be right. Wanna find out?" She slapped a hand on the punk's jacket, pulling him forward slowly, lips moving close to his. Her smile turned into a cute pout as her nose wrinkled. "Only thing, Marc Antony...." He recoiled violently as her fist shot into his gut. "I don't do zombies," she snarled through her teeth as she threw him over. He couldn't have been dead long. She hadn't been able to smell him until she got close, but the unmistakable stench of just-starting to rot flesh was hard to hide. The punk hit the floor like a cat, rolling over, unusually strong for a dead guy. He and his buddies all jumped on her at once, crashing, punching, and for the most part, losing. "Never had ten at once before," grinned Faith, punching one of the less composed punks so hard that his skull caved. She whipped around and hit him a few more times before staking him in the heart. Faith didn't especially like slaying zombies. When you staked a vampire your stake hit hard flesh, but it stayed... fleshy for only a few moments at most. Then the pressure lessened like soda escaping an upside down bottle as the dead flesh decomposed and turned to dust and fell away, and you were left with a nice clean (if dusty) stake. Faith had perfected the art of staking with an upward angle so as to max that lightening feeling. Except zombies didn't turn to dust when you staked them. They had to be nailed in the heart, like vamps, but they just died a second time and stayed solid, like a human, and you had to push them off and throw the corpse in a corner and it was too close to the memory of poor old stupid Finch getting the business end of her stake... She ripped at one of the others, slashing into his mushy chest with ease. Kicking him off, she looked around for Hunk Zombie Guy -- and got a piler right between her shoulder blades. She went down, stake clattering on the black and white checkered tile. Hands threw her right side up and the zombie crashed down on her, grinning crookedly. "Sorry, luscious," he snarled, "but I don't do psycho Slayers, either. No hard feelings?" Faith sneered hatefully. "None at all," she informed him, grinding. "Gotta say I'm disappointed." She shoved her knee up where it hurt, and then roundhoused him in the face. Squirming out from underneath, she grabbed her stake and readied herself as her opponent got to his feet. His sexy mug was now hanging off his skull like rotten lettuce. Faith wrinkled her brow, grimacing. "God. I'm doin' you a favor," she grinned, lunging forward. The body collapsed to the floor with a dead thud. Game over. Faith looked around, heaving, at the bodies strewn over the floor, then down at her slimy stake. "Screw it," she muttered, flinging it behind the counter in disgust. "I'll whittle another one." She blew out her cheeks in a settling sigh; feeling like she'd been ridden hard and put away wet, whatever that meant. She leaned against the counter, pale arms bearing a few already-sealing cuts. Her nerves tingled, her adrenaline was thrumming through her, stirring up a warm quicksand whirlpool of vibes and hormones -- and it was all pouring directly down between her legs. "Mmmm, dammit," she moaned, stretching against the counter as the familiar aches fired up. Hungry and horny, right on schedule... not necessarily in that order, either. "Holy cow!!" The Mayor's chuckle cut the dead silence in the dark ice cream parlor. "Boy, you girls sure do a number on these places. I guess I've probably got you to thank for half the repair funds I had to appropriate last--" Faith looked at the Mayor, the only living red-blooded male within a few street blocks. She let out a shuddering sigh as an almost painful fire flooded her thighs. "Hell," she muttered, smiling at the irony. The Mayor looked concerned. "What's the matter?" he asked, stepping toward her. Faith hesitated -- and finally stepped away, crossing her legs. "Nothin'," she answered huskily. "Just... if you wanna hang on to that family guy status you'd better find me something to eat besides ice cream." Surprisingly, the Mayor seemed to understand. "I'll call for Chinese," he said suddenly, stepping back from his overheated Slayer.   


_"You're an alien sex fiend  
And you go lalalalalalaaaaaa..."_

  
Some time later Faith was sitting in the Jaguar, swirling up the last of the sweet and sour sauce with her finger and slurping it down. Outside, the Mayor peeped around the dash window. "All better?" Faith nodded. Actually she could have done with about five or eight more of the take out boxes, but it would hold her for now. "You're safe. Hop in." She resisted the urge to toss the box on the backseat floor. It was a new car, she did want to keep it clean at least a little while. Crumpling the box into a very tiny paper ball, she opened the ashtray and stuffed it in there, clapping it shut. The Mayor got back in the car, and Faith drove them up into the hills, looking for a spot she had seen from below. It was harder to get places in a car than it seemed. It was faster of course, but when you walked you could go as the crow flew. Faith had never paid attention to street signs, so she felt like a stranger in town all over again. She did find it eventually though -- an old, deserted drive in movie theatre, its large concession stand converted into a warehouse, its neon sign still glaring blue and eerie red into the dark. They parked under this sign on the hill overlooking the town, finishing off their ice cream cones. Clouds had come in from the west, but they only half covered up the crescent moon up in the sky, which kept appearing and vanishing between the clouds, like the Cheshire Cat's grin. At least it wasn't a full moon. No werewolf weather. Two weeks ago she would have been patrolling on a night like this. The British Berthas never let her and Buffy have a night off.... "You'd rather be with someone else, wouldn't you?" Faith looked away from her blue-tinged face in the rearview mirror, startled. The Mayor held up his hand. "Nope, don't deny it, that's a distinctly forlorn look on your face. As well it should be. A pretty young girl like you should have more friends, someone her own age to hang out with. A handsome young buck to thrill to the moon with. Am I right?" Faith suffered a smile. Well....he didn't have it exactly right, but yeah. She did wish she was with someone else. She wished a lot of things. "Tell you what," she offered in her low voice. "You ask me a question, I get to ask you one." "Shoot." Faith reached out and tapped his hand, the one he wore his wedding ring on. "Who's this?" she asked. "How come I've never seen her?" It had been driving her nuts for a while. She herself was of the opinion that nearly all devil worshipping monsters were leading happy family lives in suburbia... but he worked like he didn't have anything to go home to. At any rate, Faith sure as hell hadn't ever seen any Mrs. Wilkins. He wasn't expecting that. The Mayor cleared his throat, looking like he'd been asked a tough question in a debate. His face was calm and impassive, but she could see the gears working, even in the thick red light from the sign. "Ah...well, she's...." Faith waited, lips twisted in a half-smile. "You got a wife? For real? Or is that just for John Q. Public?" When he didn't answer she lapped her ice cream, keeping on with the twenty questions. "Okayyyy...did you divorce her?" "I most certainly didn't," he answered, somewhat huffily. Faith raised an eyebrow, certain she had it now. "Did you kill her?" That had to be it. She was half-grinning. "You got like, a harem strung up in the basement, like Bluebeard or somethin'?" "Faith..." He was giving her that condescending look again, and his voice was just the slightest bit tight. "You're well over your one-question limit, you know." Whatever. What was he gonna do, zap her? Faith smiled, enjoying that she could make this evil sorcerer dude squirm. "Wanna know what I think?" she ventured. "This whole family man deal? I think it's a load. I mean, come on! You're wicked voodoo magic guy and you're tellin' me you never once put the Svengali whammy on an intern or two?" He gave her a sharp look, and Faith held up her hands. "Okay, no comment, whatever. I just don't get it. I mean, how come _you're_ not out here with some soccer mom shootin' the moon or whatever you said? You're kinda... y'know... hot. For an old guy." Well, it wasn't a lie. When he wasn't stuck in his office ties and the demon-overlord trip, when he was just hanging around with her, he cut loose a little and left his jacket open, collar undone, and he actually looked somewhere approaching cool. He made her think of Giles, for no good reason -- Giles the way she'd first seen him, and as she knew, she was sure, Buffy saw him sometimes. A semi-indignant laugh burst from the Mayor's throat. "Well, thank _you_ very much! Sheesh!" It was a goodnatured laugh, but it was clear he didn't know whether to take it as a cutdown, a come-on, or what. Faith shrugged, smiling. "So don't tell me. I'll just figure you got a bunch of zombie parts up in the closet that you like to take out and dust off sometimes--" "Okay, okay." He finally gave in, probably to shut her up as she was about to say something nasty. He was smiling, but his voice was solemn. "In all seriousness.... no, to quote Richard Kimball, I didn't kill my wife. I didn't divorce her, either. I don't hold for that sort of thing. Neither did she." He was speaking slowly, not entirely warm to his subject. He gazed out the dash at the twinkling city lights. The red neon outside was coming through his eyes and lighting them up creepily. "She was a good woman," he mused. "Too good. I suppose what it came down to was, at the end of the day.... she couldn't handle my wanting to change." Somehow Faith got the feeling it wasn't the midlife-crisis-buy-a-Mustang sort of change he was talking about. He gazed down at his half-eaten cone, brow knitted. "She made a choice," he said quietly. "And... we parted ways. Wasn't my idea." His voice had gone suddenly bitter. "But just because she's uh, absent... at the moment... doesn't change the fact that marriage is a mortal institution. Even for us immortals, it seems. You get sewn together at the heart like that... it's permanent. It's deadly." His voice was dark. "Nobody gets out of true love alive." Silence for a long time. "Not that she's dead, particularly," he suddenly added. "No, I have no doubt that I'll be seeing her again.... one way or the other." God, he sounded low and dark all of a sudden. He sounded dangerous... kind of sexy like that, in spite of the sage Hallmark line about love. Faith could even understand, a little, what he was getting at. It was true -- love, any kind, was a brutal scarring mess. Just because somebody decided to rip themselves out of your life didn't mean they didn't leave a bunch of raw nerves behind. Sewn together at the heart... that was for sure. The Mayor actually understood it better than Buffy had. What did he mean, not particularly dead? You were either dead or....actually, in Sunnydale you could be a lot of things besides alive or dead. Faith knew enough to drop the subject. She didn't exactly relish the fact that she could depress even the perkiest person in Sunnydale. "Hey," she said suddenly, feeling awkwardly like she had to cheer him up, "look, I'm not complaining. I got a brand new car, and I'm having ice cream with a city mayor. Trust me, it's a step up from some of the places I've been in this year." "Really?" He looked over, studying her. "Tell me about it," he said after a time. Faith shifted in her seat. It was her turn to be uncomfortable. "Uh...well..." She frowned at her cone. "It's like.... you know what I was doing the week before I came here? I hate this. My mom died from this, but I was like this close to selling crack. I was down to nothing. I was living out of dumpsters." The Mayor shuddered at the thought. "Yeah, I know. And here's these guys down on Bunker Street making, like a thousand bucks a pop for this junk. I was lucky if I had three cents in my pockets at one time. I was seriously, like this close to starving." She frowned. "I hated it. Someday, man, I'm never gonna live like that again." She fell silent a while. Someday. Right. "Who am I kidding. Someday? I'll be lucky to live out the year. 'Specially now." Her stomach tightened, a sharp cold pain coming out of nowhere. "I mean... the apartment, that's really nice. I know I got that. And this car. And...." She stopped short, not even daring to add him to the list. "But nothing lasts long for me," she explained. "Especially nothing good. Gettin' so I'm almost scared of good things, when they happen... because they're always the first things to get taken away." Like the first few days in Sunnydale. Those first easing, laid-back days with Buffy's pals, walking around the school and the Bronze, joking and cracking them up with her stories. Even then she'd known it wouldn't last, and even so it had felt so nice, having somewhere to stay, someone to hang with, being treated like part of the world. It was almost how she felt now, sitting here with the Mayor, and scared Faith shitless. She couldn't even look at him now because she hated admitting it, hated admitting fear. She wasn't quite sure why she'd said it. But she hid her face now, behind her falling chestnut locks, because she was ashamed and because she didn't want to reveal just how scared she was. She could feel his eyes, even though she wasn't looking. She half expected him to try and hug her or something. "Aw, Faith," his voice came. It was back up again, calming and sympathetic. "None of this is ever going to go away. The apartment, the car... everything else. You don't ever have to worry about that, not as long as I'm around. And I'll be around forever... promise. I'm telling you, there's nothing but blue skies on the horizon." He paused a beat. "They'll be raining blood, but...." Faith couldn't help smiling under her closed eyes. "How do you do that?" she asked him. "How can you laugh when everything sucks so bad? How do you _know_ everything's gonna be all right?" He shrugged. "Well, there's not much point deciding it won't, is there?" he said. "I've seen misery, Faith. I've dealt more hurt than you can imagine and I lost more fighting the good fight than I care to recall. After all that...well, the phrase 'selling your soul' loses quite a lot of its doomy sound." He chuckled. "And y'know what? The second I stopped fighting, the minute I said, 'That's it, I fold'--" he snapped his fingers "--it all went away. All the pain, all the memories, all the guilt... gone. Out the window." Faith peered over at him. That sounded too good to be true. "Seriously." He nodded. "I'm serious! You unload a soul, you unload all the misery that goes with it. Did me the favor of my life. That's why I don't understand vampires." He shook his head, looking truly consternated. "Or any of the supernatural critters roaming this happy hunting ground, frankly. They're soulless, they've got no worries, and yet they're just so...they're just so _glum._ These long-faced hooded fellows coming into my office every day with their show-thy-reverence-to-the-dark-lord song and dance... now I just can't see that. What's the point in being evil if you can't have fun?" He smiled, looking over at her. "You are having fun, aren't you?" Faith shrugged. "Yeah. It's a party." In any case it was the exact opposite of what working for the white hats was. "I can't do that, though. I can't be, like, Sunshine Girl all the time. You don't--" She stopped short of going off on the you-don't-know-what-it's-like rant. "I got a lot of stuff," she fumbled. "I know, Faith." His voice was so gentle, like he did know. Faith nodded, feeling strangely relieved, like she'd pulled out a hangnail. "It's just different for me," she tried to explain. "This works for me. Angry works." "Does it?" Well, did it? She sure as hell didn't know another way. Was it really possible to forget all the crap that had happened to you and grin like an idiot all the time? He seemed like a pretty good indication that it was. Faith found herself trying to imagine that kind of life. Remembering your past, being aware... and not caring. Really not caring, not just pretending she didn't care, like she'd told Buffy about Deputy Dog Finch. Having no regrets, no doubt, no fear.... "It is possible, you know." The silky voice was like from inside her mind. "Being a Gloomy Gus might be 'in' right now... but I'll tell you, Faith, the relief when the pain goes away is so much better." The Mayor paused, gazing at her in the dark. "What do you want, Faith? What would it take to make your pain go away?" Faith contemplated. What did she want. More than anything, anything in the world. "Y'know what I really wish sometimes?" she answered. "That I wasn't me." Silence. Even the crickets out in the brush had gone quiet. "I mean... it's weird, all the stuff I'm scared to lose... but sometimes I want to throw it all away. I like being a Slayer... I like the strength, I like how it feels... it's killing and death, but...it's the best thing that's ever happened to me." She frowned, making the inevitable conclusion. "I'm bound to screw it up. They shouldn't have called me. I'm not cut out for this save-the-world thing. I wish I wasn't a Slayer anymore." She frowned, that wasn't what she meant. "I wish I was someone else," she reworded. "Anyone else, besides me." Buffy. Like Barbie, that bitch had everything. Perfect mommy, perfect friends, semi-perfect boyfriend. No guilt... well actually, that wasn't true, B seemed to love wallowing in guilt. Faith ignored guilt, and...maybe that was why she was so screwed up. Faith frowned, turning that over. Did Buffy get some kind of kick out of admitting she'd failed? Some kind of release, or power? Was that why she was so bright, so beautiful... so... "Perfect." The Mayor's soft voice came in her ear. Faith nodded, as to her own inner voice, miserably. "Perfect," she muttered. The Mayor contemplated this. "Why on earth would you want to be like Buffy Summers?" He sounded like he couldn't imagine. "You're a lot prettier than she is." She looked up, frowning. Had she been thinking out loud before, or.... He was gazing intently at her. "Faith, I know what you're thinking," he said quietly. "Not mind reading, no hocus pocus this time. It's just common sense. You fight for the good, you give it the old college try...and all the while you feel everything's falling apart, like there's no pattern, no reason to anything. You feel like the darkness is winning." He spoke it almost wearily, like he knew from experience. "That's why you came to me that night, didn't you? Well, guess what... you were right. Your worst fears are true. The darkness _is_ winning." Faith frowned, not knowing what to make of his once-again somber tone. "But -- it's okay," he continued. "You know why? Because the darkness....is me!" He beamed hugely at her. "And I'm not such a bad guy, am I?" His beam widened into a huge goofy grin, a grin made somewhat more devilish than usual by the red neon glare outside. Faith couldn't help smiling. Any Prince of Darkness that looked like Mr. Rogers on caffiene-attack couldn't be all that horrible. "Nah," she decided. She couldn't get over this. She couldn't even remember the last time a guy -- hell, anyone -- had bothered to listen to her problems, much less try to make her feel better about them. Her smile broadened, she actually felt about fifty percent better. "Let's get out of here," she said, crunching the point of her ice cream come down as she started the engine. The slick black convertible slid out of the neon-bathed parking space and rolled down the gravel road. "Who's Richard Kimball, anyway?"   


_ "You're a precious stone  
you're out on your own  
You know everyone in the world  
but you feel alone  
Daddy won't let you weep  
Daddy won't let you ache  
Daddy gives you as much as you can take  
Daddy's gonna pay for your crashed car...."_

  
About ten miles down the freeway, they lost the radio. Sunnydale's one decent metal station had a radius of a block and a half. The Jag was equipped with a CD player, but Faith had left all her CDs back at the apartment. It was at this point the Mayor started belting out showtunes. Faith stared, appalled. "Don't you know any songs from this century?!" she said. He shrugged. "Well, let's find out. What's your all-time favorite little ditty?" Faith gave him a look. "Iron Man," she answered dead serious. The Mayor raised his arms in recognition. "Sabbath!" "Ozzy!" Faith grinned. The Mayor looked on the fence there. "I can take or leave Ozzy. Ronnie Dio was the man." Faith shrugged. She privately disagreed -- Ozzy kicked Dio's ass in her opinion -- but she conceded. Takes all kinds, she thought. The stars had all come out now, and the sky was a half lit deep blue. It was nearing the hour of the meeting he was supposed to be at. Faith looked over at him through her blowing hair. "I got another one," she said. "How come you knew about me... with slaying... and uh, eating? Back in the drive thru?" The Mayor sat silent. Actually, his dear departed wife had had a bit of the Slayer to her as well; one ancient June evening she'd even killed two of his own vampires that were trying to get...improper with her. It was an accident, of course -- she'd never been aware of her powers. He had found her that summer evening in the gazebo; covered in dust, trembling in fright -- and she'd jumped his bones with such violence and passion that she'd torn one of the beams out of the railing. They'd stayed in that gazebo for over three hours.... Wilkins realized abruptly that a smile was creeping over his face. He cleared his throat loudly. "Never you mind how I know," he brushed off Faith's query. "The important thing is, you get enough to eat. Can't go slaying on an empty stomach, now can you?" He chuckled somewhat oddly. Faith gave him a funny look, which he ducked, glancing out the window. "Hey! This place looks like fun." Faith looked up at the nightclub looming on the side of the road. Bright, loud, neon lights spelled out Ramone's in red and green. Looked like the last place she would have pegged him wanting to hit. Shrugging, she turned the wheel and rolled into the drive. The club was a real dive. It was made only slightly more reputable by the fact that it had a salad bar. Other than that it was pretty much a dive, and a loud, noisy one at that. The sweet strains of Orgy pounded over the speakers, setting the dancers into a frenzy. Faith grinned, feeling quite at home as they walked in. "Little more techno than I like, but...." She was about to head for the dance floor, and glanced back at her boss. He probably felt way out of his element here. "You okay with this?" she called. The Mayor was taking in the lights and noise and madly grinding ravers with barely more than veiled disinterest. "Of course it's okay!" he shouted back. "Go! Have a good time." Didn't need to tell her twice. Faith plunged into the floor, finding half a dozen willing partners right off. She spun and slithered and twined around one partner and then another as the bass pounded over the speakers. Faith had found a cute Latino to dance with, wrapping her legs around her partner as they moved to the beat. She left him and spun around, laughing -- and found herself face to face with a blonde, green eyed, petite girl. Faith was startled. "B--" It wasn't Buffy. The stranger's face was different, leaner; her eyes were too narrow, her dress all wrong. She was Buffy- cute, though; her bare shoulders wrapped in a tight white bikini top. Faith surrendered a grim smile. "Hey," she nodded in greeting. "Hey." The girl hadn't stopped dancing, she was slinking around in circles. "I'm Shirl." "I'm Faith." As if to herald her arrival, the music switched to a zipping techno beat with a female loop of "C'mon, Shirl!" over and over. Both girls danced fiercly, throwing their hair and spinning. This reminded Faith of -- no. She didn't want to think about that. She couldn't help it though -- her new partner was eerie. Faith threw her body around even harder, half to exorcise the demons and half as a wish to have that night again, herself and Buffy, side by side like it used to-- She shook her head violently, disgusted with her insistent, whiny inner voice. _Get over it, girl. The bitch doesn't want you. You're not good enough for her Holy Crusade of saving the world from whatever._ Faith's dancing body twisted like she'd been burned. The truth was bitter, but she was used to pain, and she threw her hands up, writhing as she forced the hurt under a haze of red, thrashing noise. And then it was gone. The pain vanished, forced back into the corner as she danced. _Screw her. She doesn't know what she's missing._ There was plenty of action here anyway. Shirl had a friend, a pale, petite thing with her flaming red hair in a ponytail, and she was-- Faith stopped dancing just long enough to stare. The man dancing with Shirl's friend was none other than the Mayor. And Faith was shocked to realize that he was actually dancing kind of great, jacket and tie flipping around. The fact that he was the only guy doing the samba in a club full of slamdancers didn't seem to faze him at all. Now that _was_ funny. Faith couldn't help uttering a laugh at this bizarre sight, slinking up to her boss. "You're crazy!!" she shouted over the music. He was grinning, that creepy I've-got-a-heck-of-a-secret grin. He grabbed her hand and somehow made her do one of those ballroom twirls they had in old MGM movies. "Best cover there is," he told her. Whatever. Faith twirled back, and then grabbed his wrist and his shoulder and bumped him once, just once, a bizarre choreograph of ballroom-whatever and punk mosh before she left him with his mouth open. She grinned wickedly as she moved on, dancing back to Shirl. "He with you?" the blonde asked her. Faith nodded. "He's my boss." "Yeah?" Shirl smirked, spinning around. "Exactly what do you _do_ for him?" Faith winked at the blonde, twirling. "Everything." She finally emerged from the dance floor; flushed, grinning, and once again very hungry. The Mayor had seated himself at a booth, and smiled at her. "Got you a soda," he said. "And, ahem, nachos. And sauce. And anything else you need, you just name it. Enjoying yourself?" Faith only nodded, flopping down in the booth and taking a sip of her soda. She had to grin at the nachos -- he must have judged her cute little move out there on the floor as a sign that she needed more to eat. She snatched up one and nibbled on the edge, frowning as Shirl and her friend emerged from the crowd of dancers, headed their way. "Hey," Shirl greeted, sitting down unasked. Faith frowned, only slightly. These two weren't supposed to follow her. She gazed at them through narrowing eyes for a moment, noting for the first time that both women were very pale. "Hey," she finally greeted, breaking into a grin. Shirl grinned. "Hot night tonight! You guys new in town? I think I'd remember seeing you." She looked Faith over approvingly. "Who's the suit?" asked the redhead, smiling at the Mayor. He smiled back at her. "Well, hello there. Richard Wilkins the Third, Mayor of Sunnydale." He offered his hand in a handshake. Faith raised an eyebrow. He was probably just being politiciany, but she'd never seen any girl come on to him before (except herself), and wondered how he'd react to someone who was really trying. With a smirk she turned her attentions on Shirl. "Yeah, we're on a....whaddya call it? Campaign trail?" The redhead grinned. Her lips were as red as her hair. "Ooh, Sunnydale. We love that place. We were there last night." "You were, huh." Faith took a sip of her soda. "Partying?" "All night." The Buffy-girl pursed her own red lips. "I'm Shirl. This is Deb," she said to the Mayor. "Deborah." The redhead smiled at him. She seemed to have slunk a little closer. Faith couldn't help suppressing a smile, wondering what Mr. Family Man was gonna do about this. He just kept smiling very politely at his new admirer. "Well, pleased to meet you, Deborah. Old enough to be a registered voter, are you?" "I'm older than I look," Deb said with a wink at Shirl. Faith nodded. "I bet." She hadn't ignored what was happening in the club around them. The music was still pounding, but fewer and fewer people were dancing. An abnormal number of them were looking over at the table where the Mayor and the Slayer were sitting. Faith looked casually about, sizing up the situation. The gals had boxed them in.... the club was gathering around.... it was night time.... She cast a glance at the Mayor. He knew, too. She wasn't sure when he'd figured it out, but after so many years of having the little bastards work for you, she guessed he couldn't have been in the dark long. "I got your back," she assured him as quietly as possible. The place was full of vamps. Lousy with them. Faith had thought she sensed something when they drove in but chalked it up to her clock working overtime. They were surrounded. "Man," she sighed. "You think you're gonna get a night off...." Shirl's face was already twisting. "I don't believe it," she hissed though her hardening fangs. "The Mayor of the Hellmouth -- and the Slayer. We didn't believe it when they said you were going to show tonight. Do you have any idea how many demons are going to LOVE us when they hear we tore two you limb from limb?" Her yellow eyes sparkled. _They said you were going to show tonight..._ Faith set that aside for the moment, focusing on the rest of the vamp's lame threat. "Have to get through me first," she informed Miss Buffy Clone coolly. So much for finding a party partner. No biggie. Faith was ready to go. This was going to be fun. "Excuse me," the Mayor spoke up. _Oh, no,_ thought Faith with an inward groan. _For gawdsakes, just for once sit there and keep your mouth shut._ She shot him a glance that clearly read _I can handle this._ The Mayor cleared his throat. "I just want to verify something first. Ramone Abalone.... he's still the proprietor of this lovely little grotto, is he?" "Last I looked." Shirl was waiting, bored. "Aha." The Mayor nodded. "And he's sponsoring this little...." He looked around at the vampires walling around the table. His friendly smile hardened, all business now. "....oh, heck, let's call a snake a snake, shall we? He's jumping ship, is what you're telling me? Switching sides?" "You got it, sugar." Deborah was playing boredly with his sleeve. "He's going to have the run of this valley by year's end. Ramone says he's fed up with having to take orders from you... thinks you're too soft." Her red claws squeezed the Mayor's hand. "Says there oughta be someone more evil in the driver's seat." The Mayor uttered a giggle. A long, deeply amused, eerie cackling laugh. Even the overhead music had paused between records, as if out of creeped respect. "Oh," he got out, calming himself down. "Oh, boy.... you kids have no idea what evil is." Faith knew a cue when she heard one. She shoved with all her weight against Shirl just as the first guitar chord blasted overhead, shoving her out of the booth, onto the floor. The club sodas went spilling as the Slayer punched the vampire, getting in a few good shots before the blonde vampire threw her over, sending Faith flying into another table. She immediately rolled over and jumped up, sharpening up. Like revving the engines. Damn, she loved this. Shirl jumped to her feet as well, growling like a kitten -- and she had buddies. As the snarling clubgoers ganged around her, Shirl pulled out something new -- her hands had grown huge, sharp, semi-steel claws. With a roar she launched herself at Faith, catching her right in the face. Faith grimaced as the flesh above her left eyebrow was torn away. She grabbed the bitch's arm and threw her into a wall, feeling something warm seep down her cheek. "Dammit," Faith grumbled, wiping her face on her jacket. "Gonna put someone's eye out like that." The other vamps were going for the boss now. Couldn't have that. Faith grinned at Shirl. "Dance with you later," she promised, flinging herself back toward the table. She landed with a crash on her back, shooting her boots into one fangy face after another. She threw her head back and smiled at the Mayor. "Just relax," she told him. "Faith, you really don't--" his upside-down face began. She didn't have time. She leaped up and met another vamp with a vicious head butt, shoving her knee into his groin and pushing him off. This gave her time to grab her spare stake, and she used it, wiping out as many of the suckers as she could lay hands on. The Mayor started to get up, but something shoved him so hard that he slammed into the back of the booth. "Don't go," growled Deborah, straddling his lap. Her yellow eyes glowed down at him, her fangs bright in her red mouth. Any mortal would have been scared to death. The Mayor just tilted his head, casting the she-vamp a disdainful look. "I'm laying odds your parents wouldn't approve of your lifestyle, young lady," he said sternly. Deb snickered. "My parents were Babylonian. And I don't care to lay odds." Her claws tightened on his shoulders. "I'd much rather lay other things." The Mayor chuckled. "Well, as flattered as I am by the offer, Deborah, I'm afraid I have to turn you down. I'm rather terminally married, as it happens." "Shoot." Deb swung her red ponytail around, eyes glowing. "Guess I'll just have to kill you, then." Lightning fast, she latched into his neck, crunching down hard. Faith, fighting off three motorcycle-gang vamps, stared. "Boss!" The Mayor jerked with a yelp, clutching the vamp-girl's back as she tore into him. Now this was just too much. With a grim smile he clapped a hand on the back of her head, pushing her down against his neck even as Deb began shoving against him, trying frantically to pull away. He wasn't as strong as the vampire, so she got free anyway -- sputtering something that, had her fangs and most of her mouth not been melted away, would probably have been a few choice uncouth words. The Mayor raised his eyebrows at her expectantly, smiling a cold smile. "What's the matter?" he asked her sweetly. "Cat got your tongue?" The vampire just gurgled, her pert little nose and most of the lower half of her heart-shaped face eaten away by the Mayor's acid-like demon blood. She didn't suffer long. With a sudden jolt, the little dear turned brown and crumbled to bits in his lap, dusted -- by Faith, who'd broken away from her attackers and come to his rescue. The Mayor couldn't help recoiling, however, groaning in disgust. "Aw, come on!!" he exclaimed at the piles of Deb pooling in the creases of his slacks. "I just had these drycleaned!" Faith didn't have time. "Groom later, let's bail!!" she shouted, grabbing his hand. There were, for once, too many for her to take on alone. She wasn't worried about herself -- but she didn't really want the Mayor to get wasted. Not after he'd bought her a car and everything. She dragged him into the restroom, slamming the door shut on the growling vamp clubbers. The lights were blown, or they'd been killed, in any case it was dark in there. Looking around, Faith gripped the tampon dispenser and ripped it out of the wall with a metal screech, shoving the long dispenser between the floor and the door latch. It wouldn't hold them long. The Mayor had been about to lean on the graffitied restroom wall. Noting with some disgust that the wall was absolutely filthy, he thought better of it and propped himself against the somewhat cleaner stall divider, with three fingers he could lose if he had to. He pulled a handkerchief out of his jacket, wearily dabbing at the blood that had seeped over his pressed shirt. "Well," he sighed, "I sure miss the good ol' days. You never had to worry about a bunch of drunk vampires during Prohibition, I'll tell you that." He snickered, then cast a look at Faith, frowning at the three neat claw marks lacing her face. "Say... you've hurt yourself." He reached out his fingers to her face as she came near. She brushed them away, annoyed. "S'okay. Don't worry about it. Lemme get a look at your neck there--" With her fingernails she carefully peeled his frayed collar away from the damp wound... and stopped dead. The pair of holes in his skin were only visible for a moment before they finished what they'd been doing, which was closing up. Faith stared, frowning at the gashes that weren't there anymore. They'd just.... healed. The gore was still there, but he was in a hell of a lot better shape than he should have been after being lunched on by a vampire. Faith backed off, startled. "What the f--" "Hey, now." The Mayor gave her an admonishing glare in the dark. Faith was heaving, and not from the fight. "You healed up faster than I did." She didn't like this at all. "What the he-- what are you?!" He was giving her that patiently displeased look. He looked like he'd been caught at something that he didn't want anyone to know about yet. "I guess it's time for us to call it a night, huh?" he asked, looking sorry. Faith stood in front of him. "Talk to me," she barked, more sharply than she meant to. She knew he was evil, she knew he dealt with vampires. But this was something else.... something weird. "You hired me, you said you needed protecting, and I almost got my a-- my butt kicked out there doing that. I wanna know just how much protecting you need. I'm not gonna get myself dismembered and watch you grow....new body parts or whatever it is you can do--" She stopped short. That wasn't really what was bothering her -- it was a big part of it; she wasn't sure what she thought of new trick he'd pulled out of his hat -- but there was something else. The vampires had been expecting them. "This was the meeting, wasn't it?" she asked him, her voice low. "Yes." He didn't even deny it. Faith didn't know what to make of this. A very familiar feeling was come over her -- the feeling that she being used. What did he bring her here for? To show her off? Show everyone his new toy? A cold, angry feeling was building in her, and the very fact it was there made her confused and even angrier. "So... what?" she muttered. "I test drive a car, you test drive a Slayer? That it?" "Now that's enough." The Mayor held up a warning hand. "You just watch yourself, missy--" "Or what?" Faith stepped toward him, intimidatingly. "You gonna fry me?" He could probably do it. The man had Liquid Drano for blood and a whole town scared crapless of him. She didn't care. She wasn't afraid to fight him, and they both knew it. Slayer and Sorceror stood face to face in the dark, staring down. And nothing happened. He didn't call down the fire and brimstone, and she didn't fly into attack mode. Neither one of them made a move. Faith was deeply confused. It wasn't that she was scared, or couldn't do it -- she didn't want to. Usually she couldn't read anything into his eyes, but she could tell right now that he was having the same struggle with himself. If he was going to smear her he would have done it, long before this. He didn't want to kill her. The door banged suddenly, loudly. Sounded like they were using one of their own as a battering ram out there. Faith scowled; the wrasslin' match would have to wait. She looked around, finding a handy window up at the top of the room. With a glare at the Mayor, she sighed. "Come on," she told him. She ran and leaped, grabbing the latch on the first try, ripping it open as the dispenser caved with a squeal. "Come on!" she shouted at him, linking her fingers, offering a foothold. The Mayor, after giving her a look, did what she asked and climbed up to the window, slithering out. Some part of her wondered whether he'd wait for her. He did, grabbing her arm as she leaped up, her slender body slinking through the window just as the first vamp grabbed for her boot. She kicked the sucker in the head, and she and the Mayor took off over the gravel, making for the Jaguar. Vampires pooled out of the club, running over the parking lot toward them. Faith leaped over the car door, Dukes-of-Hazzard style, the Mayor opted to open his door. She started it up and backed over two or three of the vamps, burning rubber on gravel (or skin) as she got it in gear -- too many damn gears, she thought. A few of the vamps tried to jump in the car, but Faith was too fast for them and the convertible ripped grooves in the dirt as it took off. But the Jag didn't tear off down the road. Faith was mad. And she was in the mood to hurt somebody. Or something. And there was a nice brittle club full of dead things for the destroying. She jerked the wheel and the car did a 180 degree skid, kicking up a huge cloud of dust as it headed back toward the club and the vamps assembled outside, all of whom tried comically to get out of the way of the oncoming convertible. "Faith," the Mayor started, gripping the door out of habit. Faith looked over at him. She smiled, giving him a wink. Gunning the motor, she ran over two of the vamps, mowing them down like weeds in a field. The wall of the club was behind them but it wasn't much against a force of 100 miles an hour. CRASH. The Jaguar piled into the club, taking much of the plyboard wall with it. The music was still blaring as the convertible spun around the dance floor, bodies bouncing off its quarter panels. The vamp clubbers crashed into each other as they were thrown by the car. The mirror ball swung violently, jerked from its fixing and plummeted down, dead center into the Mayor's lap, and he chucked it into the back of the car. The car smashed through a few more walls as Faith swung it around, hitting anything she could aim for. Vampires were now basically running to save their hides; a car wouldn't kill them but a full body cast was unpleasant whether you were alive or undead. Faith grinned, watching as they clambered over tables and each other, scrabbling to get away, yellow eyes glowing in her headlights, hitting the hood and bouncing or getting sucked under. The car bounced wildly over the bodies, and the Mayor giggled. Faith glanced over; he was clutching the dash with a death grip, but the expression on his face looked like he was having the time of his life. _We're bulletproof,_ the odd thought came into Faith's head. _Take a lot to kill me and he bounced back even quicker. The Indestructible Two._ One chump vampire was headed for the door. Faith gleefully headed right for him, smashing thru the frame as he ran like hell, screaming, into the parking lot where the convertible plowed over him with a _galump-bump._ That was enough, Faith was bored now. Squealing the tires violently she peeled out of there, onto the road jerkily, leaving the club utterly destroyed in her wake. _"Yes!!"_ The Mayor was ecstatic, craning his neck to see the destruction they were leaving. He turned around in his seat to gaze at her in pride... almost adoration. "My God, will you look at that!! What a wonder you are! That's what you were made for, Faith! That's what people get for challenging me, and there's more where that came from, by golly!!" He uttered a wild cackle. "Nothing can stop you, can it?! There's nothing my number one girl can't fix!" He grinned at her, looking almost wolvish in the dash lights. Faith basked in this, her mood much improved over what it had been in the restroom. Yeah... she had been used, but only because she was the best. He had brought her out to display her power, to prove no one could mess with her. Number one girl. She wasn't used to being cheered, but she was digging it big time. She WAS the best. _"Hell_ yeah!!" she whooped, high on adrenaline and praise. Her ears picked up the distant sound of rubber squealing and gravel spitting... she glanced in the rearview. "Yeah," she said again, smiling at the headlights. Some of the surviving vamps had found a car of their own. They were coming up behind. "Uh-oh." The Mayor glanced in his mirror. "I don't think you got 'em all." "Not permanently, anyway." Faith grinned. "Oh yeah... in a Chevette, no less. This should be insulting." The tiny car came up on them surprisingly fast, veering into the other lane, pulling alongside. No less than four vampires threw themselves into the Jaguar -- and one was Shirl. "You killed Debbie, you bastard!!" she shrieked, launching herself at the Mayor from the backseat. Faith twisted around, watching in horror as the vampire sunk her stilleto claws into the Mayor's shoulder, dragging him up out of the seat and into the back. Faith didn't care if he was Terminator 2 or whatever. _Nobody_ did that to her employer. Setting the cruise, Faith left the wheel and grabbed Shirl's blonde hair, yanking her head back, slamming it into the top of the windshield. The convertible weaved dangerously over the road as the Slayer stood up in the driver's seat, getting an armhold around Shirl's slender neck. One of the boys waded over the seats to help the blonde vamp -- and Faith grabbed him with one hand, jerking him back as hard as she could. He went flying over the dash, clattered over the hood, and flashed in the headlights before the tires rolled over him. As the Jaguar sped down the dark freeway, a pair of red and blue lights suddenly flashed in an empty rest area. The police car pulled onto the road and took off after the offending car, which was doing about 97 if the officer's radar gun was correct. In the Jag, Faith looked up from the fight only briefly to see the black and white coming up on them. "Great," she grumbled. "Just what I need." She jerked on Shirl's neck, trying to break her and slow her down. The vampire drew her claws out of the Mayor just long enough to punch Faith, twisting her own head out of the Slayer's arm. Drawing back her claws, she slashed at Faith's face. Faith ducked, delivering a punch of her own. "Uh-uh," she grunted. "You've already messed me up once tonight." Her hair was blowing right in her face, making a tricky job even trickier. She could see one of the vamps leaning over the side of the car like he was seasick. No -- he was doing something to the gas tank. Faith's eyes widened as she saw the vamp flick a lighter. "Hell," she muttered. "You guys have any respect for fine machinery?" She shifted her weight and swung Shirl down into the front seat, straddling her. Faith reached for her stake -- and realized she'd lost it. Probably back at the club. Faith looked around for a weapon, assessing. One in the front, two in the back. Check that -- two in the front. Gasoline Boy had jumped Faith's back and was straining to bite her. The Jag hadn't exploded into flames yet, therefore he must have stuffed a rag in the tank instead of just throwing in the lighter. And the police car was catching up to them now, the siren blared on, the red and blue lights creating a wacky strobe show. Faith grinned at Gas Vamp. She shot her fist into his face, giving up her pin on Shirl to wrestle him off. The force sent him flying out of the car, bouncing painfully off the highway -- straight into the oncoming cop car, lodging in a splintering crash in the windshield. The police cruiser lurched from one lane to the other, rolling off the road, and wiped out in the ditch. Faith laughed -- and looked down to find letting Shirl go had cost her. The little witch had pulled the hood latch. Now the convertible hood was closing over them; jerkily, since the wind was fighting it, but shutting them inside nonetheless. "That's not fair," grumbled Faith. Then... she had an idea. It was an awful idea. But it was all she could come up with. Smiling tiredly, she reached out and clamped the hood fasteners, sealing the car. She hit the cruise and the Jag slowed very slightly as she clambered into the back seat to save the boss. Shirl's other girlfriend was about to make a tic tac toe board out of him, and Faith jumped into the fray, on top of the vamp on top of the Mayor. Now Shirl was clawing into the back. Faith used her galpal's skull to clobber Shirl in the head. To the Mayor she shouted, "Jump! Now!" The Mayor didn't seem to want to for a second there. Then he reached up and grabbed the door handle, throwing it open, and he just slithered out. Faith tangled with the two vampires some more as the Jaguar rolled down the highway, slowing down. She fought them off long enough to reach into the front and grab the keys out of the ignition. Now the car was coasting. She kicked and clawed and scratched, falling out the door the Mayor had left by, kicking it shut with her foot. Tumbling to a stop, she pointed the remote at the car and locked the doors, trapping the vamps inside. Now she had to catch up with the damn thing. As Faith took off running toward it she could see Shirl's claws were already going to work on the vinyl roof. Faith ran hard, legs pumping to keep up with the coasting car. She pulled a lighter from her pocket and tried to keep it steady against the flapping rag still stuffed in the gas tank. When it finally caught fire, she stopped dead. The convertible top was getting ripped to ribbons. Shirl's claws shredded away, bits of fabric blew off in the breeze as the car slowed down. With a final slash, the blonde vampire poked her head through the hole in the roof. The car blew up so violently that it flipped over, coming down on its top. A second deafening explosion lit up the highway, raining fire and shrapnel down on the road. Faith had hit the asphalt, her flesh cut to ribbons, her hair a mess, heaving and exerted. She pushed herself into a sitting position, elbows on the shredded knees of her jeans, and stared morbidly at the hot, whipping flames lighting up the sky. "Hey," she heard the Mayor's voice behind her, dryly. "That car's the bomb." The trunk lid crashed down on the pavement, still on fire. Faith was just sick. Her nice new car. Her beautiful present. Number one on the list of things that were never supposed to be taken away from her... blown to bits. "Sorry, boss," she muttered. The Mayor knew he had every right to be upset about his investment being reduced to fiery wreckage. He rubbed the back of his neck, only briefly depressed. "Ah...well...." he sighed. "Don't worry about it. I'll buy you a motorcycle." He held out his hand to her. Faith took it, pulling herself up. She rubbed her face wearily. "Nah," she decided. "From now on I'm walkin'." The pair turned and began trudging down the highway, on the long long walk back to town. "Wanna sing?" he asked perkily. "Not."   
  
End 

* * *

This episode of _Faith the Vampire Slayer_ featured excerpts from:  
Smashing Pumpkins -- Bullet with Butterfly Wings  
Garbage -- Alien Sex Fiend  
U2 -- Daddy's Gonna Pay For Your Crashed Car Heard not seen: Iron Man -- Black Sabbath  
Tornado -- Garbage  
Black Sunshine -- White Zombie  
All songs copyright their respective writers, I own nothing.**


End file.
